


What Do You Owe Yourself?

by blackjacktheboss



Series: Maskless [5]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23597317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackjacktheboss/pseuds/blackjacktheboss
Summary: part of the maskless series & takes place at the same time as Tempeor Annabeth gives therapy a try
Series: Maskless [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1167446
Comments: 10
Kudos: 94





	What Do You Owe Yourself?

The simple white clock hangs near the door as it counts the minutes, its tick-tocks overtaking the otherwise quiet office. Annabeth sits on a comfortable brown leather couch and focuses on the way the sunlight of the fading afternoon filters in through the blinds as her fingers tap nervously at her sides. She does a quick scan of the room, noting the stretch marks in the matching leather arm chair that sits directly across from her. On the small table next to it is a picture of a group of kids huddled together in front of a familiar cabin, their lopsided smiles and wind swept hair showing the signs of a day of play. 

The office door creaks open, and in steps a woman whose features mirror Annabeth’s. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail, giving Annabeth the chance to notice the simple silver owl studs on her ears. She is wearing a short sleeved emerald green blouse that makes her gray eyes pop, and black slacks that seem to fit her athletic body perfectly. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Annabeth,” the woman says, her voice even keel and calming. 

“That’s okay,” Annabeth says. “Though, a little bit longer and I may have talked myself out of doing this.” 

The woman smiles sympathetically and takes a seat, crossing her legs as she leans back in her armchair. “Chiron mentioned you were coming in somewhat reluctantly.” 

Annabeth looks down, an embarrassed smile painting her face. “What else did he mention about me?” 

“Just that you’ve been through a lot.” 

Annabeth gives a half smile. “That’s one way to say it.” 

“He also made me promise to take good care of you, said you two are quite close.” 

Annabeth looks up then, guilt about avoiding her only real father figure creeping up into her chest, threatening to constrict her lungs. “Did he- did he seem upset?” 

The woman shakes her head slowly, keeping eye contact with Annabeth. “Not at all. He just sounded like any concerned parent.” 

Annabeth swallows hard and looks back at the window. “Are you sure this isn’t, like, a conflict for you?” 

Annabeth can see the woman tilt her head from the corner of her eye. “You mean, since we’re technically sisters?” 

Annabeth turns back to look the woman in the eye. “Yeah.” 

The woman shrugs. “If I’ve learned anything from seeing demigods over the years, it’s that sometimes I have to…  _ expand _ on the ethical principals of my profession. Plus, I figure being thirty years older than you and not knowing you before today skews it to the okay side.” 

Annabeth chews nervously on her bottom lip, nodding along with the woman’s words. 

“Will this be a conflict for you? Because I do have a few colleagues I could refer you to. None are demigods themselves but they-”

“No,” Annabeth interrupts. “No, if Chiron sent me to you, then I trust him.” 

“You sure? I won’t be offended.” 

Annabeth straightens her posture. “I’m sure, Olivia.” 

Olivia smiles. “Alright then. Well, I take it that this is your first time in therapy?” 

“It is.” 

“So what happened that made you and Chiron feel that it was time to try?” 

Again, a lump forms in Annabeth’s throat. She takes a deep breath, laughing through the end of her exhale. “How much time do you have?” 

Olivia smiles again and Annabeth sees the way it reaches her eyes, creating a warmth in Annabeth’s chest. She thinks it might be hope. 

“Well like I said, I promised Chiron I’d take good care of you. The rest of my afternoon is free, so you start wherever you feel like the story begins.” 

Annabeth plays with the silver ring she wears on her right hand, a birthday gift from Percy a few years back. “Well, I guess it really starts back when I was twelve, and this new kid showed up at camp…” 

* * *

Two hours have passed and again, the silence of the office is pushed out of the way by the tick-tocking of the clock. A small pile of tissues sits next to Annabeth on the couch where before there was nothing, and the rays of the setting sun have been replaced with the dim light of a street lamp trying to fight off the darkness of the evening. 

Annabeth sniffles as she wipes away a stray tear. “I hate crying. So much.” 

Olivia laughs lightly. “Do you think that’s a function of your life or our mother?” 

“Are those really two separate things?” 

“Touché,” Olivia concedes. 

Annabeth smiles, feeling how the upturn of her facial muscles meets the obstacle of her puffy eyes. “So what now?” she asks impatiently. 

Olivia rests her hands on her knee. “Well now that you’ve told me what you’ve been through, this is the part where we talk about where you would like to go.” 

Annabeth’s eyes get wide as it dawns on her that she’s never really considered what comes next. She has been forward thinking for so much of her life, strategizing every move whether in her hero life or her personal one. She figured out running away, thought her way through countless obstacles on quests, got herself to Columbia and stitched together a resume that got her her dream job. 

But all of that seemed to stop when she found herself on her own, heartbroken. Or rather, when she has considered what comes next, it has sent a jolt through her body with a force that would make the master bolt quake in fear. 

Looking back on her life, she can very clearly mark what things were like before Percy Jackson showed up on that cold, stormy night. She could tell you in detail the ways in which her painful early years created a wall around her heart. It would be no trouble at all to describe all the ways she felt disposable, like everyone she loved was bound to leave in one way or another. 

Then Percy came into her life the way a fire lights up a dark cave. He brought warmth and comfort, and a feeling of home she had never known before. Suddenly she had a best friend, someone she was sure she could keep. He was hers and she was his. They became a fact. One she never wanted to unlearn. 

At first she told herself to hate him, because she was, above all else, her mother’s daughter. She picked at him, pushed him away, gave him every reason to leave, and yet like the ocean that runs through his veins, he always came back. He became her constant and she became his anchor, a connection she never thought she would have. 

Except now he’s gone. Her and New York are in his rearview, but she is left with the mess he made of her, or rather the mess they made of each other. Up until now, she hasn’t even entertained the idea of her life including a time after Percy, though it seems she may have to. 

After Percy. 

After him. 

_ After _ . 

The word feels as unnatural as holding her breath on dry land. She tells herself that the timeline of her life has no space for an “After Percy” period, while a small and quiet voice deep inside her whispers back the simple truth: she is already living it. The After Percy is here, it is now, and pretending it isn’t will not stop the pain from tearing her apart. 

Olivia watches Annabeth carefully, and she can feel the older woman’s eyes taking inventory of her. Normally, she would take it as an invasion, someone trespassing on land where they are unwelcome. But she feels raw and small in a way she hasn’t experienced since she was a little girl. And just like all those years ago, all she wants is to be held by her mother and told it will be okay. 

As if reading Annabeth’s mind, Olivia breaks the silence. 

“I know it may seem hard to imagine right now, Annabeth, but there is a version of this where you’re okay. It feels so big right now and like this is how it’s gonna be forever, but that’s not true. You’ve survived so much, more than most of us ever do, and you’re still here. So maybe, instead of fighting for Olympus or to save Percy… maybe now you just get to fight for yourself.” 

The tears do not ask for permission to flow, but rather they break through the levees that Annabeth has so carefully and painstakingly built over the years. They flow from her with the roar of a waterfall, or the Hoover Dam. She buries her face in her hands, wanting to hide from the pain that has been chasing her for so long but this is the time she doesn’t get away. There is no ex lover to wrap herself up in, no bottle of wine to drown herself in, no work to pick away at like a miner. There is just Olivia, and the tick-tock of the clock on the wall. 

Quietly, Olivia stands from her chair and moves to sit next to Annabeth. “Is it okay if I put my arm around you?” 

Annabeth has no words, only tears and sobs, so she nods her head as much as she can. As Olivia’s hand comes around her shoulder, Annabeth instinctively tenses. Olivia begins to pull away, likely afraid she has made Annabeth uncomfortable, but Annabeth grabs for Olivia’s hand and holds it in place, squeezing it so she can’t move away. 

They are still for a moment, and then Olivia is pulling Annabeth tighter towards her, cradling her at her side. She leans her head against Annabeth’s and takes slow, deep breaths. 

“You’re okay, Annabeth. I’m here. You’re not doing this alone. You’re going to be okay.” 

In a flash, Annabeth is collapsed into Olivia’s side, finally letting her sobs free. Olivia begins to rock Annabeth lightly, never loosening her hold. She continues to take slow and deep breaths until Annabeth is doing the same, following her tempo like a drum line. 

Soon enough they are sitting up, Annabeth’s hand interlocked with Olivia’s as they breathe in... and breathe out…

Annabeth’s face is puffier now, and a light shade of pink. Tentatively, she lets go of Olivia’s hand and rubs her hands against her thighs in time with her breathing. 

“I can’t remember the last time I cried like that,” Annabeth admits, her embarrassment evident. 

Olivia places her hand atop Annabeth’s. “We all need to let it out sometimes, Annabeth. There’s no shame in that.” 

Annabeth nods before turning to look at Olivia, desperate to change the topic. “Have you ever met mom?” 

Olivia takes her hand back and swings her leg up onto the couch so she is sitting sideways, facing Annabeth. “Once.” 

Annabeth shifts so she is also sitting sideways. “Will you tell me about it?” 

Olivia smiles as the memory comes to her, tilting her head slightly the way a child might. “Well I was in the library all day that day working on my dissertation and I was surrounded by this huge pile of books, just pouring over every single one trying to find a particular piece of research. But then I got paged by my dad… yes, paged, don’t make that face, so I left my books to go call him. I’m not sure how long the call was, I think he was asking if I was coming home that weekend or something, and when I got back to my castle of books, there was a woman standing there.” 

Annabeth feels herself smiling, remembering the wonder she had felt when she first laid eyes on her mother. 

“I honestly didn’t recognize her at first,” Olivia continues. “I actually thought she was a librarian because she had her hair up in a bun so I rushed up and asked her not to take any books because I was still doing my research and I— I just remember the way I felt when she looked at me.” 

Olivia is looking off into space, her expression peaceful and full of happiness. 

“I’d never seen eyes like mine outside of camp so when she looked up at me I kind of froze but then... everything melted away. It was like, she saw me, you know? Really saw me. And she kind of tilted her head as she looked at me and she said ‘you have your father’s nose’. Then she looked down at one of the piles of books, pulled out the one on the very bottom, handed it to me and said ‘your work will make this world a better place, and some day, you will use your work to ensure my legacy survives. I’m very proud to call you my daughter.’” 

Olivia’s story trails off and Annabeth feels like she’s bursting with the need to know the rest. 

“And then what?!” she asks, her voice a bit frantic. 

“And then she was gone,” Olivia says with an unbothered shrug. “She walked off into the stacks, and… that was it.” 

Annabeth studies her sister’s face. “And that was enough for you?” 

“It was,” she says with a satisfied smile. “I was visited by the great goddess Athena, who also happens to be my mom, and she told me she was proud of me. That’s way more than most heroes get. Not to mention, that book she gave me was the piece of research I used to build my dissertation around. Never would’ve finished without it. I burned a  _ huge _ slice of my favorite pizza that night to dedicate to her. And just now, it became clear to me what she really meant that day.” 

“What do you mean?” Annabeth asks, intrigued. 

“Mom told me my work would ensure the survival of her legacy,” Olivia says plainly.

Annabeth stares blankly, not understanding. 

“I think she was talking about you.” 

Annabeth feels her face get red hot, and nervously tucks loose hair behind her ear. “What? That can’t—“ 

“Annabeth,” Olivia said, reaching to put her hand on Annabeth’s again. “You know better than most that being a god’s favorite child comes at a price. And I think I’ve been put in your path to help you figure out how to pay that toll without going broke.” 

“I appreciate your fidelity to the metaphor,” Annabeth deadpans as she avoids eye contact. 

Olivia laughs. “Metaphors are a big part of the job, I’m glad I could deliver.” 

“Surprising more Apollo kids aren’t therapists then.” 

“The ones that are move to Florida and California. Gluttons for a good sunshine state, those ones.” 

The sisters share a laugh, and Annabeth feels the hope in her chest bloom just a little bit more.

“You really think she was talking about me?” she asks shyly. 

Olivia nods. “I really do. The things you’ve accomplished are things our siblings have dreamed about doing long before I was at Camp. You brought her honor in a way no one ever has before. It only makes sense she would want to ensure that you get what you’re owed.” 

Silence hangs between them for several moments, Olivia giving Annabeth the space to sit with her words. When Annabeth looks back up into her sister’s eyes, which are virtually indistinguishable from her own, she decides that maybe Chiron was right to send her here after all. 

“What was your dissertation on, anyway?” Annabeth asks, subtlety escaping her. 

Olivia’s smile is soft as she follows the younger woman’s lead. “It was a theory on how kids with ADHD are actually evolutionarily hard wired for ancient times when kids had to be heroes in battle and how that should impact the work done with them in therapy.” 

Annabeth can’t help the smile that splits her face in two, and the rise of laughter that bubbles up in her chest. “No way.” 

Olivia laughs as she nods. “My advisor thought I was crazy, but by the time she read my finished product, she said I had won her over.” 

“Impressive,” Annabeth says as she continues to laugh. “I can see why mom would see fit to help you with that.” 

Olivia looks down for a moment, then meets Annabeth’s eyes again. “As a demigod, I haven’t been through a fraction of what you have, but I think I maybe know something that you don’t.” 

Annabeth raises her eyebrows. “What’s that?” 

“That at a certain point,” Olivia says, her tone gentle but serious, “being a hero stops being about what you owe the world and starts being about what you owe yourself.” 

Annabeth doesn’t look away this time. “And what do you think I owe myself?” 

Olivia props her head on her fist, leaning against the couch casually. “That part isn’t up to me. But you’re mom’s favorite for a reason. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” 


End file.
